


still here

by washingmachineheart



Category: BoBoiBoy (Cartoon)
Genre: Art collaboration, Canon Compliant, Canon Era, Collaboration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25201708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/washingmachineheart/pseuds/washingmachineheart
Summary: Boboiboy and Fang share stories in the middle of the night.
Relationships: BoBoiBoy/Fang, Boboiboy & Fang, BoiFang - Relationship, Fang & Boboiboy, Private Pang | Fang/Boboiboy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	still here

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is a collaboration between me and lovely friend and artist @cocoapollos on twitter! please check out the art work[ here!!](https://twitter.com/cocoapollos/status/1281925147964739585)

“Hey, did you know Gopal once fell off the roof of his house?” 

Boboiboy was already chuckling at the memory, his shoulders shaking and the laughter threatening to escape his lungs. 

Fang sighed, and smiled himself. “I did not. Please tell me.” 

“Okay, but you have to promise you will look at Gopal and pretend you never heard this.” 

“I can do that.”

Boboiboy began telling the tale. He didn’t hold back with the details of how it came from a time period of which they had newly acquired their powers. How Gopal was the last of the group to uncover them, and how he had tried every method in the book to do just that. How Boboiboy had been worried the boy had been kidnapped, only to have found him on the top of his own roof and risking his short life by jumping off of it. 

It wasn’t all that funny to Fang. He didn’t know if it was because he was tired enough not to release a laugh, or if it seemed like a rather Gopal thing to do. Jumping off roofs impulsively, that was. But he listened, relishing in the way Boboiboy’s enthusiasm somehow transferred itself into him. 

Nights on Earth were always a different experience. 

For one you could step into its embrace, and it would welcome you. The sky is a sphere so far off the ground, something most could only dream of reaching. Carbon dioxide emitting from the trees that surrounded you, bringing forth a chill in the air that you can’t explain. 

Fang always noticed the difference. Even if he had spent a good amount of time here before for some reason he couldn’t help _but_ notice the difference. There was something so comforting in being able to experience the authentic meaning of the phrase ‘twenty four hours’. How every moment in time was something to be aware of, to be able to catch it before it was gone. 

The clock let out a small definitive _tick,_ indicating another hour had passed. He flashed a quick glance at it before shifting back to the cadet, who had his hand on his chin and a bright smile on his face. 

_2am._

The gang had been hanging out at the cafe since dusk had set in, having drinks and chatting. It always somehow ended up like this - Yaya and Gopal, taking their leave first due to their respective curfews. Ying would leave a little after they did, often because she got tired easily and her body clock would refuse her of spending more time with the remaining two. 

Fang? Well, he rarely had a reason to rush off anywhere while he was on Earth. The simple fact was it was never going to be his true home. He had nowhere to go.

Boboiboy had wheedled his grandfather into letting them stay at the shop way past closing time. Tok Aba had grunted and sighed, but eventually relented to his grandson’s whims. He promised to close up for him, though Fang knew it was because of Ochobot he’d be able to close up with ease in the first place. 

Not that he was complaining. It was nice, just being with him. The two of them existing in the middle of the night, with only the park lights and pavilions accompanying them. 

How often did the universe catch on that sometimes that was all he wanted? 

“... Anyhow, do you have any embarrassing stories?” 

“Huh?” Fang hadn’t realised the story was already over. _Fuck._ Did it appear like he had been drifting away? 

“Embarrassing stories. Or any stories, really. I feel like I’ve been talking too much since the others left.” 

“Oh. Not really.” 

“Why not?” 

“Nothing, honestly. My life’s pretty boring.”

“Come on. There’s gotta be something. I don’t believe that.” 

“Don’t push it, cadet. I don’t have anything to tell you.” He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his voice, which pierced through his own chest deeper than he wished it didn’t. 

“Well, why not?” And _he_ was another issue. 

“I just… there’s really nothing I want to tell, okay?” 

Boboiboy was looking at him with concerned eyes now, and it irritated him. Why did he even want stories from him? What was there about his life that was worth telling? 

“Just forget about it. I have nothing to offer you.” 

“Okay. Sorry.” The boy with the cap’s voice dropped to a mumble, not even bothering to hide the disappointment that tinged his words. 

Fang held in the resistance to scream, mentally slapping himself. _Every single time._ Every time something seemed to be driving smoothly he’d find some way to get in a crash. 

The now lukewarm chocolate in a mug brushed against his fingers. He had almost forgotten Boboiboy had made it for him before he cleaned up the shop for the most part. He took a hesitant sip from it, the silence he had caused amplifying the volume of such a miniscule act. 

Fang looked away, letting his eyes gloss over the countertop and a mug slowly losing heat. Perhaps it would all go away if he just chose ignorance. 

But the fact was with Boboiboy you could never really forget he wasn’t there. Despite the silence that wedged itself in between the both of them the boy began ruffling his jacket. The lightning bolt that hung on the zipper of his jacket made soft bell-like noises as it swayed with his discomfort, getting louder and louder with every second spent in their anxious solitude. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go off at you like that.” Fang started, still looking away.

He didn’t answer. 

“I mean, my life hasn’t been like yours and the rest of them, you know? Lots of things have happened to you. It hasn’t been the same for me.” 

There was still no answer from the cadet. There was no telling if it came from contempt, or if he was just waiting. But Fang wasn’t about to find out either. 

“But I guess… I could tell you a story, if you want to hear it. Though it’s not as funny or interesting as any of yours have been.” 

Not even this offer prompted a word from Boboiboy, his stubbornness the foundation of the tense wall Fang built between them. 

“ _Singing Pebble Penguin_.” he started. His insides were already beginning to turn itself inside out at the words that came out. He couldn’t remember much of his childhood to begin with, but for some reason this was the memory that remained. Maybe it was because Kaizo still teased him for it, just to rile him up. 

Fang was sure he’d heard a slight _huh_ from Boboiboy, though he wasn’t sure if he was amused or just as embarrassed as he was.

“It was my favorite show as a kid, and the theme song was the only piece of music I knew.” He paused, allowing nostalgia to press his lips together - humming the first few notes of the theme. The upbeat, but simple rhythmic sound waves that appealed to his younger ears. 

“My elementary school had a singing competition. I liked singing, even back then... so I practiced it. Every day, for a week.” 

He paused, to recollect the dots in his head he was trying to connect. Frankly he didn’t understand how it worked, being able to articulate the experience in words, knowing it _did_ happen. But no clear images could ever come to mind, like they were just shadows lurking somewhere at the back of his head. 

The only shadows he couldn’t ever manipulate, no matter how hard he tried. 

“The day arrived, and I remember I was… really excited. I got up on that stage, and sang my heart out. I had every word, every note down. It was invigorating.” 

He wanted the images to appear. He wanted to remember how happy he felt, how on fire his younger self had been just being on the stage with every eye in the room placed on him. No one else to take that away from him.

Be that as it may - the words were just an empty spell, no longer effective enough to grant wishes.

“But once I’d stopped singing, there was just this silence that came after. No one clapped or anything. My mom and Kaizo were in that crowd.. And I saw their faces.” 

Rather, it was Kaizo’s face he’d seen. He wore an expression that Fang wasn’t unfamiliar with - strained, with wrinkles in between his eyebrows. His lips pursed together, suppressing everything he probably wanted to spit out in that moment. 

“A judge had tapped their mic and politely said that I was disqualified, for singing a theme song. I was so excited, I’d forgotten about the rules. And no one was about to dim my spirit either. I was just so excited to sing, you know?” 

He was feeling it all in his throat now, the embarrassment he had felt that still lingered now that he was articulating the memory into words. He felt his ears go warm, his visors conducting the heat. And wished he could take everything back. 

“And I remember I’d fled out the hall and I just wanted to be left alone. After humiliating myself like that.. I just wanted to disappear.” 

Hot tears were beginning to form on his eyelids, and he quickly blinked them away. 

“But then Kaizo found me. And.. he told me I’d done good. That it took guts to even be up there in the first place, and that was something to be proud of. That he was proud of me.” 

This time he didn’t bother with trying - he let the tears fall across his face, suddenly feeling utterly melancholic. Maybe it was the fact that the embarrassing story he had set out to tell ended up having a silver lining. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been able to dig into his past for the first time in a long while. Maybe it was the fact that he couldn’t remember any other instance his brother would have been proud of him. Maybe it was the fact that Kaizo was different back then, someone who didn’t exist anymore. 

“So… you know.” Fang had wanted that finishing phrase to be definitive, but it came out like a small whine, which amplified how pathetic he was feeling. He was beginning to realise Boboiboy hadn’t said a word the entire time he was telling the story.

The tears continued to flow in the seconds after that came with his conclusion. It just didn’t matter anymore - he was incapable of telling stories. He felt deliriously pathetic, tears dripping out of his lenses and his nose clogging up with mucus. There was no resistance to the sniffling, and perhaps the one thing the story had brought out was six-year-old Fang after the competition.

His view of the countertop was getting more and more blurred - until a soft hand reached out onto his cheek, staining itself. 

“Hey,” Boboiboy whispered, as his other hand found its way to his. He gripped it, filling in the gaps between his fingers. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.” His tone came out hesitant and wary, and as Fang blinked his tears away he realised there were tears in the cadet’s eyes too. 

“No...I just wish I had a good story to tell you.” Fang squeezed his hand, with hopes he would understand he wasn’t blaming him for what he was feeling. 

“But it was.”

“Huh?” 

“It _was_ a nice story, Fang.” 

There wasn’t really much Fang could say to that. For he didn’t think that anything about that story was nice, or interesting. But he managed to muster a smile, and wiped off the tears that ran below his visors. 

Fang allowed himself to lean into the hand Boboiboy hand placed onto his cheek, and sighed. For whatever reason the fact that the cadet was also experiencing waterworks with him was amusing, which lifted his sore heart just a little. 

“You big cry baby,” he chuckled. 

“And if you have any other stories you want to tell… you can tell me when you’re ready. I’d be happy to listen to you.” Of course, despite it all the cadet managed a smile. Even if he didn’t understand which emotion could have spurred him to cry with him. 

But it was the thing he liked most about him. Boboiboy just seemed to be able to have a level of empathy that Fang felt he still lacked, feeling _for_ anyone and everyone. Everything seemed to concern him one way or another. 

He was only sorry he couldn’t be the source of Boboiboy’s smiles more often.

He nodded in appreciation, trying his own sad smile to ease away all the sadness he had accidentally poured out. Dry lips arching ever so slightly, internally blaming the quietude of the godforsaken hour. 

“And you started crying first, so you can’t call me a cry baby,” Boboiboy suddenly started, releasing his hand from his and quickly wiping the tears off his own face. The smile was suddenly starting to get larger, like he was reverting back to the boy he was before the story. 

“You cry at everything, cry baby.” Boboiboy only laughed, the tears dissipating and the sun in his face illuminating itself in the sea of the darkness of night. 

A gust of cold wind blew itself into the atmosphere, and the plants surrounding them ruffled along with it. The crackling sounds of leaves, artificial lights illuminating the park suddenly seemed a little more brighter, like they had been eavesdropping along their conversation. 

Fang realises all he can do is take it all in, and relish in it before he would lose it to the day. 

Because nights on Earth would always be different. And he was okay with that. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> scream about boifang [ with me on twitter](https://twitter.com/leoriofeminism) and [ support and interact with lorie's art here! ](https://twitter.com/cocoapollos) they also [ write their own amazing boifang fics here. ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/solvunaruitsu/pseuds/solvunaruitsu)
> 
> thank you for reading <3


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